"Well," patting her on the hand "all that matters is- you have a healthy baby."
I watch her deflate. Her courage sags away from her. It was scary to tell the truth. Now she feels ashamed. She agrees out of embarrassment.
No! I want to say.
NO! That is not "all that matters". Because a healthy mom matters too.
And sometimes we wear our scars on the outside. But sometimes the scars are hidden, and no less deep.
Sometimes our scars are in our sense of violation. When our body is not treated as our own.
Sometimes it is our sense of powerlessness. When our voice is ignored or mocked.
Sometimes it is in primal fear. When our lives hang in the balance and no one is giving any answers.
Sometimes it is in the rip of our mother's heart. When our baby is taken away and no one will tell us why.
Sometimes it is in our desperate loneliness. When we enter the gates of deep, dark, reckoning. And we do it without support. Utterly alone.
The scars we wear on the inside are just as real.
The health of a mother matters just as much.
A healthy baby isn't all that matters.
I am here. I hear you. I see you. I acknowledge your scars both seen and unseen. You matter to me mama. You matter to me.
Tell your stories mamas. Your pain is real. Your trauma is real.